HELLO lovelies!
THE REVIEWS ON THE LAST CHAPTER, my goodness. They've made me SO happy.
This chapter...I wrote it originally four years ago, or so. It's gone through a lot of editing, and a couple re-writes, but I finally finished it this morning. I may have cried a little when writing it, so do with that information what you will. I really, really hope you all like it.
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Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, and only the story line and any OC's belong to me
For denizdedamla, I don't think I currently have the words to express how much your review meant to me, and thank you a THOUSAND times over. I'll respond to it properly soon, but honestly, thank you xxx
Monday, June 2nd, 1980
Potter Manor
Three Days Before the Birth of Draco Malfoy
The summer breeze tugged at his tresses, urging him towards the Manor, pleading, and begging for him to step out from the cover of the blossoming Orchard.
Draco took in a shuddering breath, and took one step forward, and then two, but he faltered mid-step and stopped abruptly. This is a horrible idea. A deranged, half-witted idea, Draco cursed mentally, digging the heel of his shoe into the somewhat soft earth, the grass crinkling in protest beneath him.
One minute he was pacing the length of Riley's unfurnished living room (it really is in desperate need of paint, but he has the utmost confidence that she'll be able to sort that out without him), and the next minute he was here. Potter Manor. He was home.
The strings that tied them all together flared to life the moment he arrived, their bonds threading their way through his heart and squeezing. He'd felt a fraction of...this when he saw Riley again. With her it'd been a faint wisp, not nearly as strong as what he had with James, Lily…or Harry. Draco marvelled at the fact that he could feel Harry, although it was nowhere near as strong as his other bonds; it was more like a promise for the future.
Draco had gone to the cottage in Herefordshire yesterday to convince Riley that she needed to leave with him (it took quite a bit of persuasion, and thankfully he'd lucked out and Sirius was away on an Order mission for a few days). So, after she left Sirius a brief note, and packed away all her belongings, they'd apparated to Wales.
Draco avoided her for the remainder of the day, opting to work on the finishing touches to her future cottage. Riley tried to talk to him a few times, but once she realised she wasn't getting anything from him, she'd spent the rest of the day in his tent with Midnight, reading through some of the books piled beside his bed. Draco had no idea what to say to her, so he'd opted for silence.
Minutes ago he left Riley on the beach outside his tent and promised to give a more thorough explanation when he returned.
I shouldn't be here, Draco thought, panic setting in. I've been gone for months—the better part of nine ruddy months. How—they'll ask about Hermione, and they'll ask things that I can't answer. This was so stupid.
Draco sniffed, blinking up at his home. All he wanted—no, needed, was to say goodbye.
I suppose this is as good as it's going to get, Draco thought, his mouth dry, his body rooted in place.
Whilst his mind was preoccupied with his inner turmoil, it had momentarily slipped his mind, that the same way he could feel Lily, she could feel him. Aside from that, she was now Lady of the Manor: she felt every presence that crossed the wards, and she'd instantly recognised his magical signature.
The only reason she wasn't already down here—hexing him black and blue whilst scolding him—was that it was taking her some time to get down the stairs.
A sad smile tugged at his features; he mustn't tarry. Draco turned to walk away, an image of the bluff, and Riley's mostly finished cottage firm in his mind.
He didn't have the chance however, because an enraged, teary, pregnant redhead burst through the front door, wand in hand. A whooshing noise reached his ears, and he turned around just in time to get a good, solid look at Lily. He was so stunned at seeing her after so long, that he didn't think to throw up a shield.
"Stupefy!" She yelled with a vengeance. As the red light soared towards him, he realised that he had plenty of time to sidestep it, block it, anything—but instead, he just stood there.
I guess I'm staying then, Draco thought right before he folded in on himself, and heavily hit the ground.
It was bright.
"Bloody Potters. Thought they could just up and disappear without telling a bloody soul a thing. Then he has the audacity to show up out of the blue, and attempt to leave again, without saying goodbye," Lily huffed, and Draco didn't open his eyes just yet, the backs of his eyeballs were sore.
When he finally pried his eyes open, he was met by the sight of Lily a little ways away, angrily folding baby clothes, and of course she had not finished with her rant. "Git. No hey, Lils. No, heard you were pregnant—cause fucking everyone has at this point—do you know if it's a boy or girl?" The irate muttering continued, her back partially turned to Draco.
Draco's head was pounding, so he only caught snippets of it, more accurately, he only registered snippets of it. Grimacing, he tried to sit up, cradling his head in his hands as he did—an unpleasant feeling settled around his bones as the blood rushed from his head back to the rest of his body.
He didn't think the first words he would say to Lily in months would be a complaint. "Blimey, woman. Did you have to damn well stun me?"
Lily's fingers jerkily stopped in their task, she dropped the onesie she was folding beside the rest, so that it was a half-crumpled mess of fabric. Lily's face whipped around, eyes wide, tear streaks drying on her cheeks.
Draco squeezed his eyes shut, and he winced at how bright it was once he opened them again, and then her image came into clear focus.
Part of him wished it hadn't; she is pissed. I'm lucky all she did was stun me, she looks like she has half a mind to hurl a Reducto or Bombarda at me. He knew she wouldn't have, but that didn't change the fact that she was absolutely livid.
Merlin he'd missed her. Lily was wearing a powdery blue sundress that dusted over her curves, her hair was pulled up into a high ponytail, and the shorter strands had escaped and were framing her face. Draco's gaze however, was drawn to her swollen belly; Harry.
Draco scooted backwards on the dark grey daybed she'd levitated him onto. "How have you been? I missed you, Lilypad," Draco smirked, only stopping when his tailbone collided with the back of the daybed. He let out a sigh of relief and laid back against it. They were in the Sun room. Of course they were.
Mum loved this room, he thought errantly. Even after all this time the scent of lemons and daffodils—her scent—was trapped, embedded within the walls. Thoughts of his Mum brought forth a familiar ache that squeezed his heart. It never quite went away, but it was bearable. It simply was.
"That's it? That's all I get, Draco Potter? No explanation for where you've been—not to mention, where is Hermione?" Lily snarled, hands on her hips. "You appear after being gone for months, MONTHS, and you think calling me Lilypad will make it all better?"
Draco stared blankly at the witch as tears welled up in her eyes, and he tried to hide the way it broke something in him. Lily was hurt, and it was his fault. He wanted to hug her, and try to make it better, but he couldn't. She wasn't going to pull his head into her lap, and comfort him like she would have in any other situation. Her hurt was a tangible being that held her back.
"C'mere, Lilypad," Draco pleaded, his calm facade crumbling, and he opened his arms wide. This time she was the one who needed comforting.
Lily's bright green eyes stared at him, tears dripping off her chin, and she sniffed loudly.
"Please," Draco whispered, and the redhead finally gave in.
Cautiously, she stood up—one hand on her lower back, the other hovering above the daybed to steady her. She warily walked toward him until she was right beside him. She halted, and her fingers reached out, trembling in the air before she threaded them into his long hair. "I've never seen your hair so long," she commented softly, removing her hand before slowly lowering herself so that she was perched on the edge right beside him. (He'd shaved his beard off last week, and now there was a bit of scruff on his cheeks.)
With a loud exhale, Lily shifted—with some assistance from Draco—so that her back was comfortably resting against his chest, and he wasted no time in wrapping his arms around her shoulders.
Their familial bond made its presence known once again, gentle threads lacing their magic together. "Congratulations on your little boy," Draco murmured against the shell of her ear, and he felt Lily's breath hitch.
"How did you—" Lily gasped.
"I just do. I also know that he'll grow up to be a great man, one day."
"I hope so. What I really hope is that after we make it out of this war, I can raise him to the best of my ability," Lily admitted quietly. "I want to be a great Mum, like Dorea was, like my own Mum. They were brilliant."
Mum certainly was the best, and I wish you could, but...Draco bristled when he remembered what was going to happen. There was so much fury gathering underneath his skin as he thought of everything Lily would be robbed of. She would never get to see Harry grow up.
More than anything in the world he wanted to save them. The fierce, loyal and kind woman in his arms, and his funny, protective, ingenious brother.
Draco's ponderance drifted to two people who had failed to gain his sympathies or affection. I would hex those two muggles black and blue if it would stop them from treating Harry horribly. I just know they aren't going to heed Hermione and I's warning.
Draco's hands slipped down to rest on Lily's swollen belly, and he mentally swore on his magic. I will make sure they pay. On Lily and James's life I will.
Despite his feelings towards Peter, Draco couldn't help but feel relief that he had died in the second wizarding war. Draco wished Peter had never defected, or betrayed Lily and James. But, he would have to be appeased by Peter's slow end, he was choked to death by the silver hand Voldemort provided him because of the Life Debt Peter owed Harry. It was ironic really.
Draco tasted his heart in fright when Lily spoke. It was as if she was reading his mind. "I don't hate Tuney…I wish things could have turned out differently. One day, maybe we can become close again…maybe our sons will grow up knowing each other." They would, just not in the way she expected.
"I don't like your sister, and I especially detest her walrus of a husband."
Lily swatted his arm for the insult, but she snuggled back into him regardless. "I love my sister. She doesn't like me, and her husband is horrid…but I still love her."
"Such a saint, Lilypad."
"You say that, but I've already drafted plans to give her a piece of my mind, and charm her hair violently purple the first chance I get."
"I like this plan," Draco hummed.
"So do I," Lily yawned, and she patted absentmindedly at him.
"Paws?" Lily said softly, her head falling to a side as she began to nod off. James had been out all night and thus she couldn't sleep properly; all alone in the Manor while Mipsy slept in her own quarters. Draco smiled lightly at the nickname James had given him in their third year.
"Yes, Lilypad?" Draco kissed her head.
"We're thinking of naming him Charles, you know after...Charlus."
"Not bad, I like it, but how about...Harry?" Draco grinned. He felt Lily nod against him, and a soft, contented sigh came from his sister-in-law.
"That is a good one, much better than Fleamont…James's list of ridiculous names. James, hmm, I'll tell James...when I wake up." Lily's body relaxed completely in his arms as she fell asleep.
Draco sat there thinking for a long time, wondering what he was going to say when she woke up. She was going to want answers. He couldn't give them to her. "This is going to sound stupid. I can't believe I'm actually doing this," Draco sighed.
Draco was unaware that James had just arrived home. He was so occupied by the life kicking in Lily's belly that he didn't realise another magical signature had joined them, nor did he sense the way their bond glowed gently for the briefest moment.
James, however, had been assaulted by Draco's presence, his scent, his magical signature and their bond burned in his chest. James hurriedly followed the thread tying them together and arrived at the door to the Sun Room. It was ajar, and James froze. He held his breath, and was about to push open the door when he heard Draco's voice. James turned his ear to the small opening and listened intently to what his brother was saying.
"Babies are supposed to be able to hear you talking to them. I mean Harry—"
Harry? James frowned.
"This is as close as I'm going to get to talking to you until we're both eleven. I ought to apologise in advance for my behaviour. Really, I was a bloody wanker when I was younger. I'm sorry Hermione and I couldn't be here to help...to take you in...after—" Draco trailed off, an amused snort followed shortly thereafter. "Who knew we'd end up here, Potter."
What the fuck is going on? James thought, rooted to the spot.
Draco paused, inhaling deeply. "I wish I could stop it. That I could keep both of them safe. Not just for our sake, because a piece of us is going to be lost forever without them…"
Draco's voice wobbled as he continued. "I wish I could stop it for you, Harry. You deserve to know your parents. To know how wonderful they are, how funny your Father is. He's brave and strong, and sometimes a pain in my arse, but he's my brother and I wouldn't trade him for anyone in the world. He's brilliant, and it's fascinating watching him because his mind works in the most wondrous ways." James adjusted his position so he could peer through the gap.
"I'm going to take you through every damn memory that I'm comfortable sharing. I feel sick when I think about how we are going to leave you in the hands of those dreadful muggles. Don't worry. I'll deal with them when I can...in nineteen years. I never thought I would say this...but I'm looking forward to seeing you again, Scarhead."
James could barely see the side of Draco's face, but he could see he was smiling slightly, yet it looked like he wanted to cry. What is Draco talking about? Harry? Muggles? Scarhead? Why nineteen years?
James couldn't take it any longer. He shoved open the door, shock and confusion punctuating his features.
"James?" Draco's eyes widened at the sight of his brother.
"What are you banging on about, Dray?"
"How much did you hear?" Draco asked calmly, carefully extracted himself from under Lily, pulling the pillow from behind his back, and tucking it under her head as he stood. She sighed softly in her sleep.
"From babies are supposed to be able to hear you talking to them…" James trailed off, letting the statement hang in the air.
"Fuck," Draco swore, shoving a hand into his messy raven locks, his grey eyes carefully regarding his brother. He looked like a caged animal trying to find a route of escape; one that would do anything to get away.
"That look…Draco, you are not fucking considering obliviating me, are you?" James hissed. Draco's piercing silence was the only answer he needed.
"No. No. I have questions and you are going to fucking answer them."
"I don't know if I can—" Draco's eyes widened. The Unbreakable Vow wasn't preventing him from saying anything. But why?
The spell, Draco thought soberly. It struck him like lightning, and the tips of his fingers were tingling, burning hotly. The memory spell would wipe away all mentions and memories of Hermione, Riley and himself in a few days. It would be as if this conversation had never happened, as if Hermione Potter, Draco Potter and Riley Paddington had never existed.
The Unbreakable Vow wasn't stopping him from revealing information about the future, because nothing Draco said would affect it or endanger the 'precious' timeline. Armed with this knowledge, Draco felt the relief bursting from his pores.
"I'm from the future," Draco said softly, testing the words, letting them roll easily from his tongue. No vice grips on his windpipe trying to squeeze the life out of him.
"What? What did you say? I didn't quite catch it." James frowned, closing some of the distance between him and Draco.
"I'm from the future!" Draco's eyes widened and an almost maniacal grin overtook his face. "I'M FROM THE FUTURE!" Draco bellowed, his chest puffed out, arms extended on either side of him as he screamed at the ceiling. Breathy laughter spurted from him; his shoulders rose and fell harshly. It was a miracle Lily hadn't woken up because of his loud outburst.
James was eyeing Draco carefully, as if slowly warming to the idea that his brother had gone mad. "Are you okay? Maybe you should sit down. I can go get you some water—"
"I'm from the future," Draco repeated, like a broken record. The dam had broken, splintering and cracking until the waves of truth had shattered it entirely and gushed forth. Pure euphoria pumped into his system: his head was a bit fuzzy, the world was painted in more vivid hues than it had been moments before, and his entire body felt lighter than a feather.
"Draco," James tried, concern threaded across his brow. A hand was raised towards his brother as he cautiously approached.
Draco shook his head, taking a small step forward and closing the rest of the distance between them. "Don't you see, James?" Draco grinned. He looked like the weight of the world had been lifted off of his shoulders. "Because of the spell we put in place, it doesn't bloody matter what I say. In a few days you won't—" Draco faltered.
"Won't what?"
"Why didn't I notice sooner?" Draco muttered to himself under his breath.
"Draco, you are worrying me. You sound fucking mental."
Draco rolled his eyes at his brother's last statement. "I am fine. Hey, let's go out in the Orchards. I don't want Lily to overhear anything. She's asleep now, but she could wake up at any point." Draco's words left no room for argument as he brushed past his brother, and headed through the door James had just entered through. He was taking the long way out, savouring every moment in his home. There was a bouncy spring in his step.
James was dumbfounded, but hesitantly trailed after his brother.
Draco greedily drank in the memories that flashed through his mind as he made his way through each room. Countless mornings in the kitchen eating Breakfast, Sirius and James sliding down the stairs on a mattress. Remus curled up on the sofa in the den, the week before the Full Moon , his head laying in Hermione's lap. Lily blushing and stuttering when Dorea hugged her in the foyer, welcoming her into their home. Charlus coming back inside after a day in the garden, dirt on his boots, with both Dorea and Mipsy scolding him as he tracked it into the Manor; he bashfully rubbed a hand through his hair with a bright grin.
James tried to engage him several times after they exited the house and crossed the front yard, but Draco ignored him. It wasn't until they reached the Orchards that Draco gave his brother his undivided attention.
"What is going on, Draco?" James demanded.
"Like I said I'm from the future. My real birthday is in a few days," Draco sighed, pushing his hair back from his forehead as he sat down on the lush grass. James followed suit, his bafflement did not ease.
"Your real birthday?" James exhaled harshly, his hands laced behind his head as he stared at his brother with wary eyes. "You both refused to tell us—"
"Didn't really have a choice in the matter unfortunately," Draco interrupted.
"So when exactly is your birthday, and don't think I'm not going to ask about Hermione."
"June fifth."
An idea sprung to the front of Draco's mind, courtesy of his Mother and Lora Shacklebolt. The idea was born from the detailed story Dorea told Lora Shacklebolt years ago.
"Cast a parentage charm on me," Draco instructed firmly, clapping his hands together. His eyes wide as he locked eyes with his brother.
"A parentage charm?"
"It will help make this easier for you to believe anything I say from this point onward, if you have irrefutable proof that I am not insane. Trust me, what I am about to tell you is going to sound crazy."
"A parentage charm," James repeated. He narrowed his eyes, scepticism awash across his features. He retrieved his wand, said the appropriate words, did the correct wand movements, and a cluster of dark blue letters appeared beside Draco.
James's disbelief was harshly rubbed off his face. He was flummoxed, his mouth moved, trying to form words, but none came.
"Birth parents Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy? I assume adopted parents show as well, and Mum and Dad's names appeared?" Draco was battling away wayward emotions; outwardly he was the epitome of calm despite his raging, twisting insides.
"What the fuck?"
"I told you, I'm from the future."
"How? Why?" James mumbled to himself, gripping his wand tighter. He was looking at Draco like a stranger. That ripped a hole in Draco's chest, but he inhaled deeply albeit shakily, and pressed forward.
"The how is still a mystery, Hermione and I could never figure it out…the why…I guess that's up to interpretation really," Draco said with a short breath of laughter. He tipped his head to the sky; he couldn't bear to see that look on James's face any longer. "I was given a second chance. Something I never thought I would get, but I did…and—"
Emotion clogged Draco's throat and tears pricked at the corner of his eyes. Three days, that was all he had left. As if prompted by the thought, Draco's hand flickered in and out of existence. James's sharp gasp drew Draco's attention to it. A morbid smile brushed Draco's lips as he landed on his flesh that vanished entirely for two seconds before it returned, solid and whole.
"What was that?" James asked, his voice quivering with trepidation.
"My time is almost up," Draco replied simply.
James's eyes burned into Draco's limb, as if anticipating it to disappear once more. His eyes widened in realisation and his words were low and gruff. "Draco. Where is Hermione?"
"I honestly couldn't tell you. She's gone. Floating through time and space." Draco said bitterly. He laced his hands together in his lap, and his left thumb covered the other. Draco dug the tip of it into the side of his other hand; his short nails dragging along his flesh and tiny welts appeared.
"What—"
"Hermione's birthday—Hermione Granger's birthday is September Nineteenth, Nineteen Seventy-Nine," Draco explained quietly. "It's why we left, why we had to leave."
"Granger?"
"She was—is a Muggleborn, you know as well as I do that Magical adoption blurs those lines. For all intents and purposes she is a Pureblood now."
"Guess that means Remus has to be the Godmother," James mumbled to himself. Draco chose not to press for details on that statement.
"She's really gone?" James asked, his eyes welling up with tears. Draco nodded curtly, and James swore profusely under his breath. His face crumpled as reality struck, his sister was gone and he'd never gotten to say goodbye properly.
Draco cleared his throat, and captured his bottom lip between his teeth as he tried to formulate his next thought. James beat him to it.
"Tell me everything," James rasped. Draco cautiously met his brother's watery, hazel eyes. They'd warmed with affection, but Draco could see the confusion swirling in their depths. James's body had relaxed, some unspoken tension unwound itself from his frame.
"James."
"I practically went mad trying to figure out why you left, but it had nothing to do with us, you had to leave. You can skip out any of the bits that would have truly violated your Vow, we can't be too careful, but tell me everything else." James begged.
"I'd planned on it once I realised I could, just…the role I play in this story is not…" Draco lost his words, how did he explain which side of history he'd been on. How he'd been a Death Eater, one of the Dark Lord's followers. An unwitting one, but still. Voldemort was going to rip everything from James. His wife, his future, his life. Not to mention the pain and suffering he would inflict on Harry for years to come. "I was one of them, I was a Death Eater—"
"Draco Malfoy," James said slowly, rolling the words off his tongue as if he tried to familiarise himself with the vowels and consonants before they left his mouth. Draco stiffened.
"I'm sorry," Draco apologised immediately.
"Why are you apologising? You didn't choose your parents, Draco," James said with a curiously blank look. It reminded Draco of the Lovegood women. A shiver ran up his spine.
"Can you listen to the whole thing? Hear me out until the very end? It's not a pleasant tale, but in three days you won't remember a lick of it. So, if you wish you'd never heard it, then, well, you won't have," Draco said weakly, his words were speeding out of him. "Can you do that for me, Jamie…listen to the very end?"
"I was coming to find you in a few days, I was going to check that bluff you took Riley and I to…isn't that funny? I would have been too late…" James murmured, dazed. His focus sharpened, and his head snapped towards Draco. A look of grim determination took possession of his person. "We're brothers, Draco Potter. I promise I will try my best to understand, and to listen to whatever you have to tell me. The whole story, the good and the bad."
"You won't interrupt whilst I'm talking?" Draco asked, a teasing lilt edging into his words. James's use of his current name—the one that resonated with his soul—had eased some of the fear and heartache from his bones.
"I won't interrupt whilst you're talking, you wanker," James swore with a wry smile.
That settled that issue, but Draco was faced with another problem. Where in Salazar's name did he begin? With his first childhood? With his adolescence? With the day he and Hermione arrived in the past? After several moments of thick contemplation, Draco arrived at a conclusion. There was only one place to begin. "Once upon a time—"
"Really?"
"You promised you wouldn't interrupt." Draco pointed out, wagging a scolding finger in James's direction.
James let out a playful sigh, and it was almost like things were back to normal. Back to what they were nine months ago. James shifted gracelessly onto his side, his head propped up in his hand, his legs stretched out and crossed over the other. James raised a hand and gestured for Draco to continue. The message was clear, his lips were sealed and he was listening.
"As I was saying…once upon a time, there was a boy. And his name was Harry Potter..."
"This is a lot to take in," James admitted quietly, picking at the blades of grass in front of him.
"I couldn't tell you before. Pesky Unbreakable Vow. The memory spell Hermione and I put into motion seems to have negated our vow to some extent, because anything we say won't change the future. Since it will be like we were never here in the first place. No one will remember us until we—well Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy—go back in time on December first in Nineteen Ninety-Eight." Draco said dryly.
"Well, at least this explains why Mione looked like someone killed her cat the last time I saw her." James smiled despite the circumstances. "I'm glad that Harry will have her to look out for him when we're gone," James rubbed at his temples, trying to process the dumpster of information Draco had unloaded onto him.
"I wish I could too, but that's not my role in those chapters of our story," Draco said morosely, shooting James an apologetic look. He poked at his palm—it glowed white for a second—and James quietly took note of it, but he didn't comment or bring attention to it this time.
(Draco had glossed over a bunch of details, he stuck to the bigger picture. He omitted the fates of most of their friends aside from reassuring James that Sirius and Remus lived. He was tight-lipped and refused to comment on Peter. He skimmed over Voldemort 'disappearing' for years only to return and for there to be a Second Wizarding War.
He didn't tell James how he and Lily died, he just said that they had, and Harry went to live with his dreadful muggle relatives. He shared mostly harmless details, and James had howled with excitement when he discovered that not only had Remus gotten married, but he married Sirius's baby cousin. He was delighted to learn about Teddy. He was glad there was happiness in their future after the dark period they'd endured.)
James's carefree expression flickered, but a smile hastily replaced it. He waved a hand dismissively. Draco would have loved to read James's thoughts in that moment, but Legilimency did not work like that. James changed the topic, his transition seamless. "So that's why you told me that Lily and I were destined for one another."
"I knew you were going to end up together. You both took your bloody sweet time. It was frustrating seeing how infatuated with each other you were, but neither of you ever made a move." Draco grinned. He laid down on his back, hands folded over his abdomen, and his head fell to the side so he could look at his brother.
"How is she? Be honest. I can't imagine finding out about the prophecy was easy." Draco probed gently.
James's smile was taut, strained, but there was a touch of levity to his tone. "She hasn't hexed me this week, so I think she's doing alright."
"That makes one of us…she ruddy stunned me."
"You deserved it. You left us for nine months. Almost a year."
"I'm sorry I couldn't be here...but I wouldn't have been able to explain Hermione's absence. It would have been harder to leave, and it would be unfair to keep you for that much longer than her." Draco replied. There was understanding on James's face, but the hurt in his eyes was insurmountable, so Draco looked away.
Draco rolled his head to the left until he gazed up at the sky. The fluffy white clouds against the picturesque blue sky. A wistful smile tugged at his mouth as he switched subjects.
"When we first arrived—in the past I mean—I was scared out of my mind. I didn't let it show, and I never told Hermione that." Draco paused, as if waiting for James to comment, when he didn't, Draco continued.
"I honestly thought it was one of the worst things that could have happened. Even if I was hated throughout most of society as 'Death Eater skum', I had my friends and Mother—parents, to rely on. Here, I just had Hermione and that old codger Dumbledore."
Draco let out a harsh bark of a laugh that mixed with a disbelieving sigh. "Then, Hermione simply forgave me, like the past seven years of our lives didn't mean a thing, like I hadn't been raised the way I had, or done unforgivable things. Like I hadn't treated her as lesser than she was, or we weren't on opposing sides for the entirety of our association."
"She knew we needed to stick together." Draco smiled fondly, picturing her in Dumbledore's office on that first day; encouraging him to be brave. "She gave me a second chance, a fresh start."
James waited for a few moments before he spoke, as if letting Draco's words settle over them. "You aren't Death Eater skum, Draco. You're more...I—I'm glad you chose to stick by Hermione. I'm glad you chose to stick together." James said sincerely. "I don't have the words to tell you how much you both mean to me."
James twirled a blade of grass that he'd plucked between his fingers. "When you get back, take care of Sirius, Remus, Hermione, Alice, Frank, their son and…Harry for me. Please."
"You don't even need to ask. That's a given," Draco swore. Draco blinked in silence for several seconds before he blurted, "I'm going to ask Hermione to marry me when I get back."
Draco's head swivelled to his brother once more, and he was greeted by a bright, lopsided grin. "Finally," James whistled lowly, nodding his head appreciatively. "I'm sure she'll say yes this time." Draco shook his head, a playful scowl twisting across his angular face.
Draco's time was limited, but he was savouring every second. James's hair fell onto his forehead, and the smile lines around his mouth were pronounced as he spoke. Draco didn't hear the first handful of words, but he zoned back in and heard the rest with perfect clarity.
"You have my blessing. Siriusly." James's smile faded, sombreness gripping him. "I can't imagine what it must have been like—for you, I mean…knowing we were going to die." The words pierced Draco's heart, and he couldn't hold back his tears any longer. Three days, and he was going to lose his brother, forever. James didn't seem nearly as perturbed as he should be. Perhaps he was in denial.
"It's unfair. We didn't get enough time, but— but…" James's voice cut off at the end, and he swallowed and cleared his throat before speaking again. "I think it's important what we do with the time we are given. Nothing in this life is guaranteed. I could die tomorrow in a freak accident."
James tucked his arms to him, and rolled over to his brother, only stopping when his front collided with Draco's side. Draco groaned at the impact, but James smiled sadly and threw an arm over Draco.
"I want to scream about how unfair it all is. Lily, fuck, does Lily Potter deserve more. She deserves everything." James dropped his head onto Draco's shoulder, and the gravity of the situation made the tears fall faster. They burned. Draco grasped at his brother, holding onto him as tightly as he could without hurting him.
"You know something that really upsets me?"
"What?" Draco croaked, closing his eyes, memorising his brother's smell.
"That I won't be there to embarrass my siblings at their wedding with some ridiculous—but brilliant—stunt. And that I won't be in the running for Godfather of your litter of pups."
Draco choked on a laugh, the sound wet as it tried to escape him. James's body was shaking with silent laughter. "What did I do to deserve you, Jamie?"
"Must have been something good. I am a fucking gem," James laughed breathily.
"I'm sorry you won't be there to see Harry grow up…but he inherits big pieces of you. Your recklessness, Lily's sense of justice…and his ears don't stick out as much as yours do."
"Hey! My ears do not stick out."
"Not really," Draco shrugged, prying his eyes open again. They didn't, but he liked to tease James about it.
"Youngest seeker in a century you said?" James asked softly.
"Yes."
"My beautiful, brilliant boy," James murmured. "He won't have it easy, and he won't have us…but when you get back, can you make sure he knows how much he was loved. Please, Dray. I need him to know that."
"He knows, Jamie," Draco sniffed, a fresh stream of tears blurring his vision, twisting the clouds overhead into unrecognisable shapes. He must, Draco thought.
"I'm going to love them with everything I have for the time we have left. Lily, Remus, Sirius, Harry and—"
"Peter?"
"Maybe. He's been a little distant of late, and I know you didn't mention him at all…but he is still family."
"Yeah," Draco said dully. James didn't seem to notice.
"I think you made the right choice, no matter how hard it was. There was no guarantee that you'd have been able to find all the horcruxes in time. Then someone else might die in our stead for nought, or he might make new ones. It might have messed everything up."
(Draco hadn't expanded on the horcruxes too much, he just mentioned they were dark items that held pieces of Voldemort's soul, that would have to be destroyed before he could die. Truthfully, the only thing he hadn't specified was what the objects were or where they are.)
Selfishly, Draco thought, I wouldn't have minded someone else dying if it meant you lived, James. He could never share that thought with his brother, it's not what James would have wanted, not who he was. James carried everyone they'd lost in a different way, he blamed himself for deaths he couldn't have prevented. Like Mary and Emmeline's.
"Hermione and I used to play a game…we used to imagine our lives if you'd lived. How things would have turned out—even though it meant we probably never would have come back in time, never fallen in love, gotten to know all of you. Things would've been vastly different."
"That's a double-edged sword, Dray."
"It helped."
"Draco?"
"Yes, babe?"
"Did you just call me babe?"
"Deal with it."
"You're ridiculous," James said, exasperated and amused. Draco's tears had halted for the moment, and the world was reforming slowly; sharpening by the second. "But Draco, don't you see? This way, Harry lives. My son lives."
In mere moments, James had accomplished what Draco thought impossible. He made Draco's affection and love for him grow. There wasn't enough room in his chest for all of these feelings. It was overwhelming.
If the tables were turned, Draco would be outraged. He would break something or someone. Probably Smith, he did have such a punchable face.
Unbeknownst to Draco, James was at war inside, but he refused to let his brother see it. He didn't want to stain what could be his last moments with his brother with rage and fighting. So he shoved the treacherous emotions clashing inside him down into an abyss. Perhaps it hadn't quite sunk in, maybe the knowledge that his son lived was the only thing keeping his stitching together. James'd been so worried about his son dying at Voldemort's hands. The fact that he survived had wiped away months of harrowing unease.
"Besides, we're always going to be with you," James said softly.
"Are you going to say something corny like you'll always be in our hearts?" Draco asked.
"Fuck that. I am going to haunt your arse. In the most loving way possible. I promise I won't peek in on more intimate moments." James poked Draco in the chest, trying to smile for Draco's sake, but this one didn't quite reach his eyes.
"I'm going to miss you," Draco whispered. All the jesting was over. He had to say it, while he had the chance. "You both have a piece of my heart, and it's going to be left behind when I leave. It's going to stay with you. I know you won't remember me soon…but…I am never, ever going to forget you, Jamie."
James shifted them so that his arms were underneath Draco, and he hugged him the best he could in their position. Draco wrapped his arms around his brother's broad back, and James tucked his head beneath Draco's chin. "You made me cry, you wanker," was the breathy, teary confession that bubbled out of James into Draco's chest. The sound was muffled, but it reverberated through Draco's diaphragm.
"Whether I remember or not, you're always going to be my brother, Draco. Always." James said, his tears falling onto Draco's shirt. "Even with your absurdly long hair." Draco was waiting for a quip on his rugged appearance.
"Fuck you. But, the same goes for you. You're always going to be my brother, James Potter. The war may be over in the future, but I promise to look after your son for the rest of my days."
"I asked Sirius to be his Godfather."
"From the future, remember? I know."
"You keep avoiding talking about Sirius, and why he didn't raise Harry. Or how Harry ended up with the walrus and Petunia."
A flash of the events to come played in his mind. Sirius Black being sentenced to Azkaban for 'betraying' James and Lily Potter. Peter Pettigrew, the true perpetrator, living in his rat form for twelve years. No, those were not details he wanted to share with James. He'd mainly revealed things that wouldn't really affect the future, nothing too specific. Even if he wanted to scream it all out—every detail—he knew he mustn't.
The sunlight suddenly felt too hot, too oppressive, but Draco refused to budge. "He survives both wars like I told you, the other details…you wouldn't want to know."
"Remus?"
"Taught us Defense Against the Dark Arts in third year, best teacher we had for the subject if I'm being honest. He marries Nymphadora Tonks, and he has a son, Teddy."
"You told me that already."
"I also told you I can't tell you anything else. No matter how much I desperately want to."
The men laid on the grass, beneath the sweltering sun with the cool breeze blowing over them for several long moments. James was partially on top of Draco; below his waist was turned out to the side. It was serene, and both men breathed for the first time in months.
"I want to be with you when you go."
"James, I don't know if that's—"
James pulled back enough to fix his brother with a fiery look that scorched Draco's insides. "I didn't get to say farewell to Hermione. There's no way that I am making that mistake twice. "I am going to say goodbye, end of discussion."
Draco was as still as stone, and even quieter still. An imperceptible nod. "Okay, James," Draco smiled wryly.
"Good."
"Meet me in the Shrieking Shack, ten in the morning, three days from now. I'll send a patronus to remind you. My birthday is two hours and sixteen minutes after that. That should be long enough for a goodbye, right?" Draco raised his eyebrows.
"You know the exact minute you were born?" James's mouth fell open.
"No, of course not. But I do know I was born sometime around midday. My Mother's labour was brutally long." Draco patted his brother's upper arms. "Now get off me."
"Yes, Your Royal Highness," James drawled. He obliged, and relinquished his hold on his brother, rolling over onto his back. Their shoulders were touching.
"Prat."
"I would ask you to stay for the next couple days, but I know that's impossible," James sighed. "Lily is going to be furious when she realises you've left again."
"Good thing I'm leaving her in your highly capable hands. It shouldn't be too hard for you to diffuse the situation." Draco pursed his lips in thought, and threw out a suggestion. "Tell her I'll be back in a week, and by then…I'll be gone and it won't matter."
"Do you think we'll know something isn't right? I do. I think even if we can't remember…we'll know."
Draco had to leave. He'd overstayed his allotted time already, and Lily was bound to wake up any moment. Shortly she would come searching for them. He had to leave, but there was one more thing he needed to say before he did. "I haven't said it as much as I should have, but I love you, James." Draco smiled brightly.
"I love you too, Dray."
"Not so bad for a stereotypical Gryffindor," Draco teased.
"You do realise you're one of those stereotypical Gryffindors now, right?" James shot back with a bright grin.
"I think you have me mistaken for someone else," Draco smirked. "I have to leave shortly, but do you think we can just stay here for a few more moments? Stay like this?"
"Yea, we can," James murmured, bumping his shoulder against Draco's. And thus the pair stayed there, gazing up at the clouds, letting the summer breeze caress them. They stayed longer than Draco should have, but he greedily stole every moment he could. He stayed until the warmth of the late afternoon came.
Then, he hurried into the Manor, 'took care of something', and returned to his brother. He pulled a shrunken, ornate, rectangular copper box with rubies encrusted on the lid from his pocket. He enlarged it and bestowed it upon James. The initials, 'H.P." were neatly carved into the centre. The two wizards exchanged a few more words, bid each other farewell, and then, just as quickly as he'd appeared, Draco was gone again.
James sat in the drawing room, staring at the door: a wispy image of Dumbledore walked in, followed by two small children; it projected from his mind's eye. The ghosts of a time long past, and he swore that if he reached out, he could touch them.
It was strange thinking about that moment now that he had more context for how it'd come to be. Hermione and Draco had tumbled through time and space, thrust into a foreign time as former enemies. They'd chosen to take a de-aging potion and they'd chosen them to be their new family.
Hermione was one of his son's best friends growing up, and Draco his rival and enemy. They were all children, and they were faced with war at such a young age. The haunted look that flashed behind his siblings' eyes sometimes, their horrible nightmares. They'd been forced to live with the burden of knowing how things would turn out, yet, they were unable to change it.
"I was a Death Eater. It wasn't really a choice, but I did what I had to to survive." Draco's words echoed in James's skull. James thought of his Draco, the person who always pushed him to be better, who was tortured in Hermione's stead, their pack's fierce protector with a sharp tongue and endless wit.
"Harry was the youngest seeker in a century, and I was the youngest Death Eater ever." James dismissed the thought, the lingering sadness in Draco's voice remained. Perhaps, a small piece of Draco still thought he was unworthy of them, and James's heart squeezed painfully.
James had been mulling over his conversation with Draco for the past hour. After he'd poured himself a full glass of Firewhisky; the amber liquid was threatening to pour over the sides of the stout, crystal glass when he was finished. James lingered on the last part of their conversation before Draco left.
"I was going to sneak it into Lupin Den, but now that you know, I think it'd be better if you gave it to him." Draco held the copper box out to him. James didn't ask how Draco knew that Remus's living arrangements had changed. Perhaps he hadn't, and it was just an educated guess. Remus alternated between staying at Potter Manor and Lupin Den these days.
"What's inside?" James asked as he accepted the box.
"The key to our potions room, there is some important stuff in there and we didn't want anyone to find it until the time was right."
"Fuck, your brewing lair. I tried to break in a few months ago, but I failed miserably. Those goblin made locks are no joke, especially after you added those extra wards." James whistled lowly, rubbing at his nape.
"You tried to break in?" Draco's amusement was heavily apparent.
"I thought there may be a clue as to where my siblings had disappeared."
"Fair point. Now, I actually do have to leave. I am pretty sure Lily is awake." Draco grasped onto his brother's shoulder. "I'll see you in three days, don't be late." Draco smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. His hand fell limply to his side, and before James could respond, Draco turned on the spot and vanished. A loud crack rang in James's ears. He was left alone in the late afternoon sun with his countless thoughts.
James consciously rejoined reality, and his brow drew together as he stared at the box resting in his lap. "I guess it's time to pay Moony a visit."